Chương 2
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked at the floor.
“Because every time I tried, your mom said I was ungrateful.”
Marla gasped.
“That is not true.”
Nora flinched.
It was a small reaction.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
“You told me I was lucky you were here because I didn’t know how to manage a home.”
My mother’s mouth opened.
“That is not what I said.”
“You said I was lazy.”
“I said you needed to contribute.”
“I am carrying your grandchild.”
Nobody spoke.
Even Paige looked uncomfortable.
Then my wife stood up suddenly.
She grabbed the edge of the counter.
Her face changed.
“Nora?”
She closed her eyes.
“Wait.”
I moved toward her.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Her breathing became uneven.
A second later, she bent forward.
Pain crossed her face.
Everything inside me went cold.
“Nora.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
Marla waved her hand dismissively.
“She’s probably just overwhelmed.”
I looked at my mother like I had never seen her before.
“My wife is in pain.”
“She has been emotional all night.”
“That is not an answer.”
Paige sighed.
“Ryan, hospitals cost money.”
I turned around slowly.
The fact that she said it so casually almost made me unable to speak.
“Our baby might need a doctor.”
“But if it’s nothing—”
“Stop.”
My voice cut through the room.
Everyone went silent.
I grabbed my phone.
“I’m calling an ambulance.”
Marla stepped closer.
“Ryan, think about this.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re panicking.”
“I am finally paying attention.”
That sentence seemed to hurt her.
Good.
I hated that I thought that.
But I did.
While I spoke with emergency services, Nora sat in the chair with one hand on her stomach and the other gripping mine.
Her fingers were cold.
I kept telling her everything would be okay.
I kept saying it because she needed to hear it.
But my own hands were shaking.
When the paramedics arrived, the apartment suddenly became smaller.
The laughter was gone.
The confidence was gone.
Everyone started moving around like they had forgotten how to act.
The paramedic asked Nora questions.
“How much water have you had today?”
Nora looked embarrassed.
“I don’t know.”
The woman looked at me.
“How much food?”
I swallowed.
“She ate crackers.”
The paramedic’s expression changed.
Not panic.
Concern.
That was somehow worse.
They checked Nora and prepared to take her downstairs.
As they lifted the stretcher, Marla grabbed my arm.
“Ryan.”
I looked at her hand.
Then at her face.
“Please leave some grocery money.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“We still need food.”
“My wife is going to the hospital.”
“I understand that.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her expression tightened.
“We’re your family.”
I slowly pulled my arm away.
For the first time in my life, I did not feel guilty doing it.
I walked to the door and looked at my mother and sisters.
“Pack your things.”
Paige blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Ryan, don’t be ridiculous.”
“No.”
I pointed toward the hallway.
“You need to leave.”
Marla looked hurt.
Almost offended.
“You’re choosing her over us?”
I looked at Nora being wheeled toward the elevator.
Then I looked back at the people who had spent months making her feel alone in her own home.
“I’m choosing the person who needed me and was too afraid to say it.”
Nobody answered.
I grabbed my jacket and followed the paramedics.
Behind me, my apartment door closed.
And for the first time in years, I stopped wondering who I was supposed to save.
The hospital hallway smelled like antiseptic and burnt coffee, the kind of smell that seemed to settle into every hospital no matter what city you were in.
I sat in the plastic chair outside the examination room with my elbows on my knees, staring at the floor tiles because looking at the closed door in front of me was making my chest tighten.
Every few seconds, someone walked past.
A nurse carrying paperwork.
A doctor checking a tablet.
A man holding a sleeping toddler against his shoulder.
Everyone had somewhere to be.
Everyone had a reason for being there.
I had never felt more lost.
My phone kept vibrating in my pocket.
I ignored it the first three times.
The fourth time, I pulled it out.
It was my mother.
I stared at her name until the screen went dark.
Then it lit up again.
Paige.
Then Tessa.
Then my mother again.
I turned the phone face down.
A nurse opened the door.
“Ryan Mercer?”
I stood immediately.
“Yes.”
“She’s stable.”
The air left my lungs so fast I almost had to grab the chair.
“The baby’s heartbeat looks good,” the nurse continued.
“She was dehydrated and exhausted, and the contractions appear to have slowed down, but the doctor wants to talk with you both about preventing this from happening again.”
I nodded.
“Can I see her?”
“In a few minutes.”
I thanked her, but my voice sounded strange.
Like it belonged to someone else.
I sat back down.
For the first time since leaving the apartment, I let myself feel how close I had come to something I could not take back.
I had spent months thinking I was doing everything right.
Working harder.
Paying bills.
Keeping everyone together.
I had mistaken carrying everything for being responsible.
I had never stopped to ask if the weight I was carrying was crushing someone else.
When the doctor finally came out, she introduced herself as Dr. Patel.
She was probably in her forties, with tired eyes and a calm voice that made it obvious she had delivered bad news before.
“Your wife and baby are okay right now,” she said.
“Right now?”
She looked at me carefully.
“Pregnancy puts a lot of stress on the body, especially in the final months.”
She glanced at her notes.
“Nora has been under significant physical strain.”
I swallowed.
“Because she wasn’t eating enough?”
May you like
“And because she hasn’t been resting enough.”
The words landed one by one.
